


In Memoriam

by jewishquentin



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010), Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Chapter 2 can be interpreted as romantic, Multi, Pre-entity, Quentin being a dumbass, Quentin is pissed :), Somewhat, Vague allusions to what Freddy did to the kids but nothing in detail, Valentine's Day, and some post, characters and ships to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29238126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewishquentin/pseuds/jewishquentin
Summary: A collection of moments throughout Quentin Smith's life, before and after being taken by the Entity.
Relationships: Jesse Braun & Quentin Smith, Nancy Holbrook/Quentin Smith
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	1. Rapture

**Author's Note:**

> Out of one hell and into another--seemed about right.

“Nance?"

It took her a moment to respond, her eyes trained on the TV screen but not really watching. They were both a few seconds behind in their reactions as of late. “Yeah?”

“I'm gonna sleep, okay?” Quentin’s voice shook. He had spent his time awake pouring over any information he could find on dreams and all his time asleep running from Freddy and finding those fissures in the illusion. He was so damn close to figuring this out. He couldn’t fail now.

Nancy looked at him with concern but understanding. It had been what, three days since he last slept? It had been Nancy’s turn to sleep last, maybe two days ago. They had been going as long as possible without sleeping since Freddy came back, but tried not to surpass three days. The micronaps were concern enough, even if their tormentor didn’t seem to be trying to kill them like before. It was only a matter of time before Freddy tired of the sick game he was playing and gutted them, Quentin figured.

“Okay,” she replied hesitantly. He knew she was worried about his plan--not enough evidence, too risky, all that--but what was their other choice? Keep staying up until they couldn't bear it and running from Freddy until he killed them? Even if they managed to evade Freddy every single time they fell asleep which was damn unlikely, their bodies wouldn’t be able to stand the abuse they were receiving for much longer. Between the lack of sleep, ridiculous amounts of caffeine, and excessive doses of Zoneral, it was unlikely they’d even make it a week longer.

Quentin met her eyes, so different from the eyes he used to get lost in during class. Her skin was so pale, the dark circles under her bloodshot eyes like bruises. Her hand eclipsed his own, her nails bitten to the base and cuticles ragged. She looked so tired. Quentin knew he didn’t look any better. They were both shells of their former selves, some strange imposters taking the form of the carefree kids they were only a month prior.

He stood from the intentionally uncomfortable chair he had been reading in, looking at the bed like it was a death sentence. It could very well be.

“Wake me up in twenty?” 

Nancy nodded, twisting in her own chair to watch as he laid down. She still had that look of concern on her face, knowing that his life was more or less in her hands. Quentin found himself being more afraid when standing vigil while Nancy slept than when he was facing Freddy himself. “Be careful.”

“I will,” he said, settling on his side and taking another look at the only person who could ever understand what he was going through. His hand rested on his crucifix, fiddling with the chain before coming to a rest on the cross and coin. After finding a position his aching body agreed with, he murmured their newly customary, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And with that, he closed his eyes and allowed the exhaustion to overtake him, slipping into unconsciousness.

There was a moment of peaceful nothingness, something he had grown to appreciate. Moments later though, he felt chilly air replace the warmth of his room. His eyes opened to see the all-too-familiar façade of Badham looming before him.

 _Here we go_.

Quentin flexed his hand for a moment, getting a bearing on his surroundings. Everything seemed normal--there were no glaring differences from how the preschool typically looked. The swingset still followed its lazy pattern like a pendulum losing its energy, spurred only by the wind. Everywhere he looked had a phantom of the past, some vague memory he couldn’t quite get a grasp on but knew was there in the depths of his mind.

It didn’t take long for the bastard to show his face, taunting him in his peripheral as usual to give him a head start. Freddy seemed content to let them go through their little routine of cat and mouse, but there was something different about the way he looked at Quentin. Something that made him sure the man was tired of their games and ready to end it. He was prepared, though. There was one thing for sure: one of them was dying tonight, and there was no chance in hell that it was gonna be Quentin.

He took off running after their brief standoff, dexterously opening the door to the preschool as he had so many times before. The interior of the school was the same as usual as well, which was promising. After a moment's deliberation, Quentin turned to his right, continuing down the short hallway that ultimately led to the boiler room. Instead of trapping himself down there, he went into one of the small classrooms along the way. There had to be something here for him to use.

With discerning eyes, he surveyed the decrepit classroom he once spent his days in. Disturbing imagery adorned the chalkboards and walls, sending a shiver down his spine. No time to linger on that, though, the clock was ticking. He saw it then: a can of paint thinner in a pile of random supplies. _That_ was something he could work with. How, though?

 _Think, God damn it_.

Quentin grabbed the can, gauging how much time he had left. Twenty seconds, maybe? Less? Either way, he had to move quick. As far as he knew, there were no lighters around, so he would need Freddy to ignite the thinner. He hated leaving something like this up to chance, but he didn’t have a choice. And really, how could Freddy resist his signature taunt?

With that, Quentin unscrewed the can and set to work, dousing the hall with thinner. He was as careful as could be to not get any on himself, throwing it ahead of him. Had he more time, he would have set something else up--a failsafe. God knows he needed all the guarantee he could get. The air was changing though, and he knew Freddy would be here soon. Throwing the now empty can into the staff room, Quentin prepared to put his plan in motion.

It was only moments later that Kruger’s laughter echoed through the halls. His heavy footsteps followed shortly after, and then he fully entered. Quentin stared at his grotesque face, meeting his eyes from the other end of the hall. He was terrified, his heart beating so hard he could feel it, but he was determined. He _had_ to do this.

For Nancy.

Freddy was reveling in his fear, he could tell. That sickening grin on his face--knowing that Quentin was trapped, scared, alone, and tired, all because of Freddy--was more than enough to clue him in to that.

Playing up his fear wasn’t at all difficult. He was terrified and Kruger knew it. What he didn’t know--at least, Quentin hoped to God he didn’t--was that he had a plan, and Freddy was walking right into it. Quentin backed up against the end of the hall, only stopping once he made contact. As the man raised his bladed hand to scrape along the exposed pipes on the wall, the awful screeching reverberating through the hall, time seemed to slow. The sparks showered down, dropping further and further until…

The hallway was engulfed in flames, a burst of hot air hitting Quentin like a brick wall. Seeing that look on the bastard’s face, a look of shocked realization that his target wasn’t about to go down easily, sent a jolt of pride through his heart. Freddy let out a scream, but it seemed to be more out of rage than anguish as he thrashed around in the flames. Quentin held his cross as he took off once more, running desperately towards where he knew there was an exit as he prayed silently to whoever was listening.

Just as he reached the basement, the fissure _almost_ in reach- the scene changed. They were in the cave. This damned room, filled with recently uncovered memories of hours after school with Freddy while he waited for his dad to get off work. It was suffocatingly hot, and the entrance was sealed shut. Quentin panted heavily as he turned to face the man only a few feet away from him, that stomach-churning smile on his scarred lips.

It was in that moment that Quentin felt more anger and determination than he ever had before. He didn’t care what the hell it took, Kruger was going to die. Whether he made it out as well didn’t matter to him anymore--all he wanted was for Freddy to suffer and _never_ hurt the people he loved again.

Those thoughts consumed him, becoming all he could think about. Even as a thick fog rolled into the room, all that he saw was the memories of everything Freddy had ever done to hurt him and his loved ones. Every perverted touch, every cut, every taunt, every kill--they flashed through his mind and only fueled his determination more. The past month of his life had been a worse hell than he could have ever imagined, all because he told the damn truth and this asshole couldn’t accept that what he did was wrong. Kruger laughed menacingly, scraping the brutal blades on his glove together, and Quentin knew he didn't have much time to make his next move. It was now or never.

Then, silence. Cold.

Quentin opened his eyes, not even knowing they had been closed. He was in the middle of some forest, but not one he recognized. These trees… he wasn’t even sure if he had seen trees like those that surrounded him before.

_Where the hell am I?_

Freddy must have moved the dream, but why here? What significance did this random forest hold? But, wait--this wasn’t a dream. Not his dream, at least. It felt different in some way. The typical haze that accompanied the dreams under Freddy’s influence was absent, replaced with an uncanny sharpness. It certainly didn’t feel like the real world, but it didn’t feel like a dream either. What was this?

“Stop playing games, Kruger!” Quentin screamed, his voice breaking part way through. He was tired of this shit--tired of being so close to finally ending this just to have it ripped away from him. “This ends now!”

He was met with silence, save for the shrill caw of a nearby crow he hadn’t realized was there. This wasn’t like Freddy; the asshole liked to taunt him, but his style was much less subtle. If Freddy was doing this, he’d be somewhere familiar. But, if this wasn’t Kruger’s doing, whose was it?

Quentin looked around, studying the trees around him. There was some sort of path leading off to his left. He saw something flickering through the heavy greenery, accompanied by some muffled noise as he walked a bit closer. Was that a fire? Voices? Maybe this was Freddy, just some strange detour from his normal M.O. His best bet was to go to what stood out, but he kept his guard up just in case this was another one of Freddy's tricks.

Taking a breath, Quentin followed the light of the fire and soft sound of conversation. The forest wasn’t too difficult to transverse, leading him to believe he was _meant_ to go here. The rough path he followed felt too intentional, even if he stumbled over a rock hidden by the underbrush here and there. The light slowly grew brighter in tandem with the voices becoming louder, though he still couldn’t discern what they were saying. It sounded like a fairly large group--definitely more than a couple of people. If this was Freddy… he didn’t want to think about who those people could be.

Finally, he broke through the treeline and found himself in a clearing with a campfire surrounded by a few logs in the center. The source of those voices was revealed to him as well: a group of ten individuals were sitting around the fire, deep in conversation. They all seemed worse for wear, bloodied and tired. One noticed his presence and looked up to him, a glasses-wearing man who seemed to be in his early twenties and had a nervous look on his face. Whatever he said next seemed to alert the rest of the group to him as they were soon all regarding him with a similar look of pity. 

_Who are these people?_

They couldn’t also be tormented by Freddy, could they? All the kids from his class other than Nancy and himself were already dead, and only a handful of these people seemed old enough to be their parents. But they all had a look of weariness akin to his own, as if they were running from something too. Christ, what had he gotten himself into? 

There seemed to be a silent discussion within the group, spoken only through glances and small nods. Once they seemed to come to a decision, an older man wearing what was likely once a nice suit jacket and sunglasses stood up, making his way over to Quentin. Even if these people didn’t seem to have any ill intent, he still flinched away and took a couple of steps back as the man approached. He seemed to understand, coming to a stop a good distance from him before speaking.

“It’s alright, kid. You’re safe with us,” he said, his voice heavily accented in some way he couldn’t quite place. While Quentin was still hesitant to trust anyone here, there was something about this man that he wanted to trust. “We’ve, uh, got something you need to know. You'll wanna sit down for this."

The man pulled down his shades and gestured towards the fire. There was something in his eyes that made Quentin understand: no matter who was behind this, these people needed his help.


	2. Halcyon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night-time car rides with Jesse were Quentin's favorite tradition.

“Hurry up, asshole!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Quentin yelled back, shoving his beanie on and locking the door behind him. Jesse was sitting in his idle car, blaring a song he recognized as having shared with him a couple of nights prior.

Even in the chill of fall, Quentin and Jesse kept up their tradition of late-night car rides. They had been doing it since Jesse had gotten his license, even if he was technically not allowed to drive this late. Jesse’s parents didn’t mind, and Quentin’s dad was none the wiser, so they saw no reason not to. 

The destination was about the only thing that changed, often being chosen on a whim after they already started the drive. Tonight it was the overlook right on the edge of the forest, a favorite spot of both of theirs. The view was incredible; the whole city was visible from it, but it was far enough away that the already minimal light pollution from their small city barely reached and the stars were clear.

Running around the other side of the car, Quentin hopped into the passenger seat and gave his best friend a punch on the arm before buckling in. “Sorry t’keep you waiting,” he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “I know you’re on a tight schedule.”

“I don’t have to take you anywhere, you know that?” Jessie shot back as he pulled out onto the street and started off in the direction of the overlook, no actual weight to his threat. Both of them knew Jesse looked forward to these nights just as much as Quentin. No matter how late Quentin was, there was no chance he’d pass this up.

“Drop me back home then,” he replied, rolling down the passenger window and shooting a smile at Jesse before turning and leaning on his elbow to look at the houses as they drove past, “I got shit t’do anyway.” 

His best friend didn’t respond to that, only giving a short laugh and focusing on the drive. They’d gone down this route so many times the both of them could drive it with their eyes closed, but Quentin knew Jesse was the type to worry about getting in a crash. He tried to tone down his own admittedly reckless driving when Jesse was in the car with him, though he typically wasn’t allowed to drive the both of them if Jesse had any say in it. They weren’t in any rush, so Quentin didn’t mind Jesse’s slow and cautious driving--it was nice, actually. Quentin didn’t slow down very often, both literally and metaphorically.

The drive was fairly short, taking only around twenty minutes to reach the overlook. They had spent it in relative silence, enjoying each other's presence and the music playing from the stereo. Quentin recognized all the songs, mostly because he had shown Jesse half of them when asking him to vet the playlists for Insomniac. Jesse was his quality control, more or less--he made sure the songs were good, the order fit, and they’d be long enough to fill the scheduled time. It was something Quentin appreciated since it took a little off his own plate while running the rest of the podcast.

Quentin stretched his arms out in front of him as Jesse pulled into the small parking lot, leaving some space between the barrier and the front of his car so they could easily walk in front of it. No one else was out here with them, probably because it was a Wednesday night and the spot wasn’t too popular in the first place. That was one of the reasons they loved coming here so much; it felt like _their_ place. 

“We’re here,” Jesse said as he turned the keys and pulled them from the ignition, his voice a little scratchy from not speaking.

Quentin unbuckled, his eyes trained on the glimmering lights of the city below them. “Really? Couldn’ tell.”

“You’re a dick, Quen.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughed, opening his door once Jesse unlocked it and stepping out into the cold night. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to warm up as his body grew accustomed to the chill.

Jesse called out from behind the car, opening the trunk. “Gimme a hand here.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Quentin turned away from the view, gravel crunching beneath his feet as he went back to help Jesse. He dropped his arms from around himself as he approached, holding out his hands for whatever was going to be passed off to him.

“Here,” he said, handing Quentin a couple of glass soda bottles. They were cold to the touch, probably from the cooler Jesse kept in the back for occasions such as this one. Even if he’d rather something warm in this weather, Quentin wasn’t about to complain about a free drink.

Bottles in hand, Quentin took a look in the back of the car to make sure Jesse didn’t need any more help carrying things before he went back to the front. He set the bottles against the windshield before pushing himself up onto the hood of the car. They _could_ sit in the back, especially with the weather, but they had always sat on top.

Jesse joined him moments later, holding a light blanket Quentin recognized as being from the Braun's living room couch. It seemed Jesse felt as cold as Quentin did and planned ahead.

“Thanks, it’s cold as fuck,” Quentin said as Jesse hopped up on the hood and tossed the blanket over the both of them. The two settled, close enough that Quentin could feel the warmth from his friend but not so close that they were touching. He reached behind him after a moment, grabbing one of the soda bottles and handing it off to Jesse. 

Jesse breathed out a laugh, nodding in agreement, “Yeah, it is.” He reached into his front pocket and pulled out his keyring, sorting through until he found the bottle opener Quentin had given him for his seventeenth birthday--Jesse always got the old-fashioned glass soda bottles when he had the chance, so Quentin had figured it would be a practical gift. With the number of times he had seen it be used in the past few months, he seemed to have been right. After opening his own, Jesse held out his hand for Quentin’s and opened it as well.

“Cheers,” Quentin joked as he knocked their glasses together, taking a drink before he set his glass aside and leaned back on his hand with his eyes on the stars. The view of Springwood sprawled out before him was stunning, but he had a penchant for stargazing more than anything else. They were so bright up here, free from some of the light pollutions that made the stars difficult to see in the city. Springwood wasn’t too bad when it came to clarity, though--Quentin had spent nights in Cincinnati before where he couldn’t see a single star, just the pitch-black night sky washed out by the lights. 

There was something about seeing the countless stars above him that simultaneously made him feel so small and so important. Even if he was just a blip in the grand scheme of things, every single event from the dawn of time led to his existence and this moment. It was comforting, really.  
  
“What do you wanna do?”

Quentin glanced over to Jesse, knocked from his internal musings. He couldn’t say how long he had spent staring up at the stars, but it had been long enough for the radio to play through a couple of songs. Jesse’s question caught him off guard though, being so different from anything they had been talking about and lacking any context--he was probably as lost in thought as Quentin had been. “What d’ya mean?”

“Like… in the future. When we’re outta school an’ that shit,” Jesse looked away from the sky and instead towards Quentin, a rare genuine look in his eyes. It seemed they had gotten to the part of the night when they lost their filters, talking without pretense. 

Shrugging, Quentin shifted his focus to the city in front of them. “Dunno. I mean, I kinda know. I wanna keep the radio up but, y’know, for real. An actual FM radio show,” he said after a moment of thought. Making Insomniac Radio a real thing was becoming more and more possible by the day--he already started the process to get his license with the FCC, and the college he was looking at was fully on board with him founding a student radio. It was exciting for him; he hadn't thought anything would come of his little podcast when he founded it two years prior, but it was starting to be something he really cared for and wanted to take as far as it would go. “Still dunno what I wanna major in, I guess. I’ll figure it out when I get there. You got your plan?”

Jesse took a similarly long time to respond, tapping his fingers on the thin metal hood of his car to the beat of the song. “Kinda. I was lookin’ at some, uh, apprenticeship things with some parlor to get ready for a real job. Thought it might be cool t’do during college,” he paused a moment, hesitation in his voice as he did continue, “I’m sorta worried, I guess. Worried I’m making the wrong choice... like my dad says.”

“Nah, don’t pay attention to that shit. No matter what y’end up doing, it’s gonna be great. Do what makes you happy, ‘specially if you’re good at it,” Quentin said, shifting his weight to one hand and gently punching his best friend on the shoulder with the other. “And I’ll be there with ya the whole way. No way in hell you’re gettin’ rid of me just ‘cause we’re goin’ to college.”

Jesse laughed at that, one of those real laughs he didn’t always let out. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Quen.”


	3. Another Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day wasn't really Quentin's thing, but he still wanted to make the most of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! I wasn't sure if I should post another chapter so soon after the last one, but here we are. Hope your day has been great!

Valentine’s Day. 

Quentin had never paid attention to the holiday if he was being frank--it wasn’t anything that interested or even involved him, being a single teenage boy. The most he ever did for it was grab some chocolate and ice cream from the 7-11 with Jesse and play videogames all night, a little tradition of theirs since eighth grade. Quentin didn’t have any complaints; he would much rather spend a night in with Jesse than out on a date with his nonexistent girlfriend.

This year, though, was different. 

Kris and Jesse had been dating for a few months by the time Valentine’s rolled around, and it came as no surprise to Quentin when his best friend told him he had plans to go out with her. They had a nice dinner date downtown planned, probably in the same restaurant as twenty other couples. He wasn’t upset, but he was a little sad that their annual hang out was canceled. When he expressed this--jokingly, since he didn’t want to get Jesse feeling guilty for just going out with his girlfriend on the designated most romantic day of the year--Jesse shot back with a proposition of his own: Quentin should ask Nancy out. For real.

Quentin  _ had _ asked Nancy out before, several times. His crush on her started in freshman year when they were partnered in their Biology class--something about the way she spoke and doodled on her hands made his heart pound back then and even now in their junior year. The aforementioned attempts at asking her out were failed, to put it gently. Quentin had a habit of chickening out at the last second, saying he just wanted her to join him and some friends instead of what he really wanted: to go out with her on his own. No matter how much interest Nancy seemed to show when he first asked, it always fell away the moment he mentioned his other friends. If Quentin were more attuned to such social complexities, he might have been able to put things together and realize *why* she acted the way she did, but he had never been the aptest.

It was the thirteenth now, landing Valentine’s on a convenient Saturday. Paper hearts and streamers adorned the halls of Springwood High, put in place by the student council a week or so prior. Quentin thought it was cute, even if he wasn’t quite as festive as some others were this time of year. He and Jesse were walking back from his dad’s office where they ate lunch, maneuvering through the crowded halls towards their lockers. Before they reached their destination, Jesse came to a stop. 

“Quen, now’s your chance,” he put a hand on Quentin’s shoulder, prompting him to stop walking and look ahead to where Nancy stood. She was rummaging through her locker, a small pile of notebooks set on the floor next to her. Seeing her never failed to take his breath away, even if she looked the same as she always did. There was something about her effortless beauty that made her stand out in a crowd, at least to him. Jesse never really understood why he held her in such high regard, but Quentin couldn’t think of a prettier person. 

“Hey,” Quentin walked up to her, leaning on the locker next to hers the same way he always did if he caught her getting her things for the coming period. They weren’t incredibly close per se, but Quentin would consider her a friend. Over the years, they had spent a fair bit of time together both in and out of class--mostly under the pretense of group work, but it counted; they had always been each other’s first pick if applicable. He stopped by the diner she had started working at in January almost every weekend as well, or at least as often as his wallet would allow. Any excuse to see her was good enough for him.

Nancy looked over to him with her books in hand, smiling softly and making his heart skip a beat. “Hey, Quentin,” she said, looking curious why he was there but generally pleased, “What’s up?”

_ C’mon, don’t fuck this up. _

“I was just, uh- just wondering if you’d wanna go down to the bowling alley tomorrow? ‘Round five or six, maybe.” Quentin rubbed his thumb on the side of his finger--a nervous habit of his. Nancy generally made him feel at ease, but asking her out was a bit anxiety-inducing.

An indiscernible expression on her face, Nancy’s wide brown eyes met his. She didn’t seem uncomfortable or otherwise off-put which was reassuring, but he couldn’t quite place what she was feeling. “Like, for Valentine’s?” Nancy asked hesitantly. She shut her locker and leaned on it, mirroring Quentin, her free hand brushing a few stray strands of hair away from her face.

Quentin floundered, trying to figure out how the hell he should respond. Was that positive or negative? Her voice didn’t betray what she was feeling, leaving him more confused than before. “Uhm, yeah,” he eventually settled, ending it there for a moment before he followed it up with, “As a group, y’know? A few friends a’mine are goin’, and I figured you might wanna come along too.”

_ God damn it. _

“Oh, uh,” she stood up straight then, sounding a bit uneasy, “I’m gonna be busy, actually. Some stuff for class I have to get done. I hope you and your friends have fun, though.”

Quentin masked his disappointment, just nodding as he stopped leaning on the locker as well. “That’s all good,” he reassured, smiling at her. Even if he was a bit sad he had fucked up an attempt to ask her out for the umpteenth time, he was just glad she wasn’t upset with him. No matter how much he wanted more from their relationship, their friendship was enough for him. “Good luck with your work an’ shit. I’ll see ya in English, yeah?”

Nancy granted him a soft smile in return, holding her books close to her chest. “Thanks,” she said, “Yeah, I’ll see you--can’t wait to see how Nick interprets Reverend Parris this time.”

“I could personally go the rest of my life without seeing that again,” Quentin laughed, happy when Nancy joined him. The faint awkwardness that had developed was now dissipated, leaving them the way they always were. “But anyway, I gotta go. Catch ya later.”

After a little wave goodbye from Nancy, Quentin turned on his heel and walked back to where Jesse stood waiting for him, a knowing look on his face.

“You chickened out again, didn’t you?” Jesse asked once they started walking to their lockers, though he knew the answer. 

Quentin shoulder checked him with just enough force to make him stumble. “Fuck off,” he said, his words lacking any real malice. “I’ll ask her some other time.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jesse replied, “‘bout the fifth time you’ve said that. You just gotta go for it, man.”

“I know, I will,” he came to a stop at his locker, putting in the combination before turning to face his friend, “Just waitin’ for the right time, y’know?”

Jesse laughed, nodding before patting Quentin on the back. “Whatever you say, Quen,” he glanced at his watch, taking note of how much time he had before fourth period. “I gotta go, see you after school.”

“Bye,” Quentin said, watching Jesse head over to his nearby locker before focusing on his own. It seemed he was once again without plans for Saturday, so it was back to his original idea of watching movies on his own until he passed out.

Well, there was always next year.


	4. Into the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody needs time alone.

The forest air bit through his jacket even as Quentin wrapped his arms around himself, goosebumps covering his skin. A walk was what he needed, really. Trials had been… rough lately. They weren’t even that different from how they normally were, but Quentin was feeling them differently. Maybe it was that he kept _just_ missing the save, having to watch as his friend’s lives were taken from them over and over again. It weighed on him more than he would allow himself to admit--any inquiries on his mental state were met with a quick grin and some lighthearted denial of anything being wrong before he subtly changed the subject. The other survivors were great, and he trusted them with his life--not that he had a choice not to--but the last thing he wanted to do was give them yet another burden to bear in the form of his feelings.

There was very little he had actually told them, Quentin realized. Some quick, vague retelling of what happened with Freddy as a means to give the other survivors an idea of what they were up against, but no detail--more importantly, no detail of the past. Even if he did someday sit down and tell the full story of what happened in the months leading up to being taken by the Entity, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever talk about his childhood interactions with Freddy. Speaking about them with Nancy who had been through just as much as him was hard enough, so Quentin couldn’t imagine ever feeling comfortable with the others. Someday, maybe. 

Leaving the warmth and laughter of their little clearing behind, Quentin set off into the dense forest. His excuse had simply been that he wanted to get some rest away from the noise--believable enough since he did step away sometimes for a break. There were some places in the forest he frequented for some reason or another. Some spots had a particularly good view while others were more comfortable, but they were all more or less interchangeable to him. In this instance, he just walked. He had no real plan as to where he was going, only that he was going somewhere away from the others. 

The forest was easy enough to navigate, especially when he had in mind a specific location he had found before. There were trends—just another sign of the Entity’s minimal knowledge of the real world she was replicating—that could be analyzed to find some particular place that shared traits with another that could be found along a similar but different path. Quentin didn’t have such a place in mind, so he traveled along vague paths he didn’t recognize. There was no harm in variety, after all, and he needed something different right then. 

Coniferous and oak trees towered above him, obscuring his view of the eternal dusk. Had his eyes not been unusually accustomed to the darkness after spending so long in the Realm, Quentin wouldn’t have been able to see anything at all. It was strange to be so unused to the light, having gone what must have been years without ever setting eyes on the sun, save for the dwindling daylight that accompanied the saloon and the blinding white snow around Ormond. He always reveled in what light he got when he happened to be sent to those realms, almost feeling a sense of normalcy in such a strange place. 

The eternal dark, though oppressive, wasn’t something Quentin could complain about. The fact that he could see in it in and of itself was more than enough to make him thankful--simple mercies such as that were far and few between in the Realm. Even the dense, dark forest was something he could appreciate. From the towering trees to the quiet caws of the forest birds, walking through the forest almost reminded him of the nights he spent in the forest just outside of town, sitting on the hood of his car and blaring music in the moonlight while he mused aloud to Jesse-

_Jesse_... Christ. 

How long had it been since he thought about Jesse, really? Or Nancy? His dad?

Fuck. 

Jesse was dead.

He would probably never see Nancy or his dad again.

There would never be another late night with Jesse, binging junk food and playing Assassin’s Creed. Never another trip to the diner just to have a chat with Nancy before he overtipped. Never another movie night with his dad, watching the same one they had seen a hundred times before. Quentin was _stuck_ here, all the people he loved left behind or dead.

He was seventeen, for fuck’s sake. He was a _kid_ , still seven months off from even being considered an adult. Not even out of high school and he was stuck in some purgatory where he was destined to run from and be killed by the same murderous beings while watching the people he cared for die over and over despite his best efforts for some twisted god. Not to mention, Quentin was living in fear of a man who only wanted him to suffer for some asinine reason that somehow made sense in his sick mind and took every opportunity to make sure that happened. 

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to be curating the next playlist for Insomniac, studying for finals, applying to colleges, worrying about how to ask Nancy to prom, making dinner with his dad, staying up all night with Jesse-- _anything_ that wasn’t this. Why had God, or the universe, or the Entity, or _whatever_ thing was pulling the strings here decided this was the life he deserved? What the hell did he do wrong?

Quentin didn’t even realize he was sobbing until his own anguished cries broke him out of his train of thought. He hugged his legs, face buried into his knees as tears dampened his jeans. It had been so long since he had cried or really taken the time to feel… anything. Anything other than fear. His chest felt tight, his throat already sore as the ugly sobs wracked through him. 

Fuck, he wanted to go home.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make some Quentin content that wasn't solely DBD based, but couldn't really come up with fics long enough to be standalone. This is what I'm gonna do instead; there will be purely DBD and purely NOES2010 fics within this as well as ones that feature both canons.


End file.
